


Keep on Breathing

by mgrnn



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, No Beta We Die Like Wilbur in Skyblockle, bur ghostbur is there for him :), tommys not having fun in exile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mgrnn/pseuds/mgrnn
Summary: The nightmares kept coming, every night since the exile. It worsened to the point that Tommy started to avoid sleep, choosing instead to lie in bed and listen to the waves crash onto the beach near his tent.Soon enough, Tommy found himself spacing out during conversations and nearly falling asleep while doing tasks around Logstedshire. One day blended into the next, and weeks passed by without him even noticing.He was a mess.---In which Tommy's nights are plagued with nightmares, and he goes to a friend for help (or maybe just some comfort).
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	Keep on Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> This stayed unfinished in my google drive for months and I finally decided to just wrap it up real quick and throw it on here for people to read.
> 
> Let me know if i should add anything to the tags please :) Enjoy (or don't, I'm not your boss)

_ The first night, he dreamed of fire. _

_ The details were fuzzy. Maybe a torch left burning too long, maybe a lantern that tipped over. It didn't matter, though. The flames engulfed the tent all the same, smoke filling the boy's lungs as he scrambled his way out, hands empty and feet bare. As he hacked and coughed, he turned to watch his tent crumble to the ground, smoke billowing up into the sky.  _

_ The boy dropped down to his knees, gasping for breath as he watched everything he had gathered be taken away from him. Valuable resources, notes from friends, photographs of home, gone again. _

The tears streaming down Tommy's face were what woke him up, and with a quick glance around to make sure everything was okay, he let out a sigh, rolled onto his side, and lay there until the sun came up, too shaken to fall asleep.

\---

_ The second night, there was shouting. _

_ Loud arguments, lots of shouting. About what, he couldn't tell. He couldn’t even recognize the people, all he knew was that they were his friends. Their voices got louder and louder, to a nearly unbearable point, and he covered his ears with his hands in an attempt to block out the voices. _

_ But they just got louder. _

_ Were they yelling at him? _

_ Was this argument his fault? _

_ Most of his friends' disagreements were. _

_ He begged them to shut up, but they wouldn't. Their voices blended together in what became a high-pitched ringing noise, resonating through his head, and as he dug his fingers into his scalp, unable to hear his own thoughts, he began to cry. _

Tommy woke up with a migraine.

_ \--- _

The nightmares kept coming, every night since the exile. It worsened to the point that Tommy started to avoid sleep, choosing instead to lie in bed and listen to the waves crash onto the beach near his tent.

Every sleepless night left him more sluggish, more compliant to Dream's demands. Each day, he became more of a danger to himself, slipping up on simple tasks that could easily cost him his life — like fighting off mobs or traversing the nether. Tommy found himself spacing out during conversations and nearly falling asleep while doing tasks around Logstedshire. One day blended into the next, and weeks passed by without Tommy even noticing.

He was a mess.

\---

_ Silence. _

_ It was dark. It was cold. It was silent. _

_ He wrapped his arms around himself, looking around. He was walking around in a forest, the dark fog so thick it swallowed the tops of the trees before he could see them. No birds chirped up above, no leaves crunched beneath his feet. _

_ It was silent. _

_ How many times has he had this dream already? _

_ He felt so alone. _

_ This time, he couldn't find it in himself to cry. _

\---

Tommy flung the blanket off of himself to be met with cold night air. Gasping for breath, his eyes darted around the tent, taking in the surroundings.

_ It's okay, I'm okay, it was just another nightmare. _

He stepped out of the tent and found the sky still dark, with light just beginning to show over the horizon. 

It was late enough in the night, so close to daylight, that any monsters in the area would already be heading back to their dark, lonely caves to wait out the day. Tommy would be safe enough to go on a short walk.

So Tommy walked.

He aimlessly walked through the field of grass, thinking about his dreams and what they could mean. Before he knew it, he came up to a hill with flowers sprouting at the top, by the base of a tree, and there he sat, watching the sky light up in shades of red and orange. It wasn't long before he felt a cold hand on his shoulder, cold enough that he didn't need to turn around to see who it was.

"Good morning, Tommy!" the cheery voice greeted him with.

Tommy replied to Wilbur with a grunt. He could feel his older brother sit down beside him, not by the grass shifting or leaves crunching beneath his feet, but by the cold air he could feel emanating from Wilbur's ghostly form beside him. There was a moment of silence between the two siblings, before Wilbur spoke again.

"I heard you crying in your sleep," Wilbur began, much to Tommy's chagrin. "Is everything alright? Are you sleeping well?"

Tommy rolled his eyes and lay back in the grass, his arms crossed over his chest. "What's it to you, ghost boy?"

His question was met with another moment of silence as Wilbur continued to watch the sunrise. The clouds in the sky lit up in a bright, stunning scarlet, and the colors of the sky reflected against the ocean waves that crashed up onto the beach.

The sounds of the ocean have always been calming to Tommy.

He could feel his pent up anger and fear melt away, only to be replaced by confusion over the dreams. Tommy let out a sigh.

"Wilbur."

"Yes?"

"Do you have dreams as a ghost?"

Wilbur laid back in the grass beside him, stretching his arms up above him and resting them in the grass. "Ghosts don't need to sleep, silly."

Tommy huffed and closed his eyes, listening to the crashing waves. "What about when you were alive?"

"Of course. I had dreams all the time." Wilbur looked over to Tommy. "Have you been having nightmares, Tommy?"

Tommy didn't answer for a few minutes. He just lay there with his eyes closed, drifting in and out of a sleepy state where he imagined the waves crashing into him. The weight of the water pulled him under, no sunlight coming through, reminding him of the forest, surrounded by fog, too dark to see, he needed to run, he could hear his name, someone was calling his name-

"Tommy?  _ Tommy! _ "

Tommy jolted upright, his stomach doing flips as his eyes darted open to take in his surroundings. Wilbur was hovering in front of him, looking at him with blank, white eyes that held concern for his younger brother.

"You've been having bad dreams."

Tommy didn't reply.

"Tommy, it's nothing to be ashamed of." Wilbur held both of Tommy's shoulders with his hands, and Tommy shivered at the touch. "Are you okay?"

Tommy pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "I… don't know," he replied, looking down at the flowers at the base of the tree.

They sat there for a few minutes, in complete silence, before Wilbur pulled Tommy in for a hug. Tommy latched his arms around Wilbur, clinging to him despite his ghostly body being so cold.  


"I'll always be here for you, Tommy," Wilbur said.

They sat there in silence for a moment, Wilbur's chilling arms wrapped around Tommy's shoulders, Tommy's hands clutching Wilbur's daffodil sweater. The blond boy let out a chuckle.  


"You're like a brother to me, Wilbur," Tommy muttered, knowing exactly what his response would be.  


"Don't say that," Wilbur replied, as if on cue. "I _will_ cry."

They let go of one another with a laugh, and Tommy turned back to look at the rising sun. A bird chirped overhead, and a small smile showed on Tommy's face.

"Thank you, Will."

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello I hope you enjoyed uhhhhhh  
> I have a Twitter, come yell at me and maybe drop a follow for mcyt fanart and animatics: https://twitter.com/_megaronii_


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